That Sounds Like A Plan
by DEUTALiA
Summary: In the end, Feli proposes to teach Ludwig Italian. Fail!Title, Summary. GerIta PWP - in that order. Dom!Germany, Sub!Italy .


**A/N~ God knows I can't write anymore OTL I'm simply too far gone what with the feeling that everything I /do/ write is complete bullshit. That thar be a pussy sob story for a Facebook status though ^^ On a semi lighter note, be wary, this will suck. Badly. I guarantee it. Have fun though!**

They were spent well into their third round - Feli especially just within the first - understandably though, as popular demand would provide (accurately in this case), being married to a personified Germany, one with soft, smooth blonde hair, piercing, passionate glacial eyes, a damn well all over sexy physique as you better know it (and autopilot stamina prone to murder the Italian in bed) you're never truly spent until the fourth go... and a half? He did lose count in the beginning. Twice actually. Eh.

Panting of both parties slowly died down a few minutes later, the occasional "Ve~" still as frequent as per usual though (of course not as bubbly or nearly as enthusiastic what with the minute prior activity ).

Feliciano could honestly make sex the cutest thing since Rome's arguably unresolved disappearance. The way seemingly all of his smaller frame twitches and spasms for minutes after hours of prolonged, hot, rough sex - occasionally lasting some even after the Italian's fallen asleep. Much like now, as Ludwig's still buried to the hilt, deep inside him as neither of them have made attempt to maneuver to a more ideal position since they finished; with Feli on his stomach, either arm beside his head, hands grasping the bedsheets much lighter than before and panting lessened with the capability to breathe sufficiently now, whilst Ludwig is almost lounging on the cowardice Italy, chest to a fair Mediterranean back with his forehead resting gently against Feliciano's left shoulder as he inhales and exhales smoothly, sweat and bangs matted almost annoyingly against his eyelids.

"Ve, Luddy," he can't see, but Ludwig's almost smiling as he's prepared for what the Italian will usually say around this moment. Because teasing is something he's pretty sure he's gotten down to a tee by now, he gently presses his lips to the shoulder below him.

"Ja?"

As if on cue, there's an unmistakable shudder between the two as Feliciano's pelvis jolts slightly, shifting the German's large and undeniably still hard cock inside him. The aftershocks of his series of orgasms tonight clearly hadn't warn off yet.

"You hev to speak up, Feli. Und I can't hear you viz your het burried in zat pillow like zat."

"... I said, mmh, that I'm-a really-" Another jolt, a moan, muffled by the pillow.

"Just tell me." Oh yes, there definitely was a privilege to wedding and bedding this adorable Italian of his. Who he could redeem to a stuttering mess with little to an hour of foreplay.

"... I ... I can't ..."

"You can. Just calm down." He swapped to the other shoulder after a while, even licking the slightly salty skin still damp with sweat. He chuckled at the way the Italian shook his head, as if denying something ridiculous, the protruding hair curl curling tighter to the left of his head.

"N-no, I can't," he twitches, whimpering and wreathing slightly as his body presses back against the hard shaft. "Take... mmmh!... Take it out now, Lud- Ve~!"

Ludwig smiled as the latter was quickly reduced to panting again, noticeably grinding back against the penetration as his walls still convulsed around him, frame still spasming frequently. They /had/ done alot tonight, and even he was tired, so he wouldn't prolong this much longer he decided, humming shortly as he kisses the top of auburn hair, after so long already accustomed to where is appropriate as to avoid the erogenous strand.

"D-dio~" Another twitch.

"Just hold still. Zats only half." He's not at all surprised at the near cup amount of cum that oozes from Feliciano's small, tight ass as he finally does pull out completely. That or the amount of it also left over as the smaller man exhaustedly rolls over to lie on his back, a generous amount of the sticky substance in the spot Feliciano's pelvis had been moments before.

He smiles, pecking the Italian's swollen, reddish lips parted so tiredly. He'll wait until tomorrow to bring up how that'd be the seventh climax the Italian had had in a single night. The blonde sighed as he settled next to his Italian love, half expecting the soft "Ve~" shortly after as ticklish reddish hair rests against his chest, smaller, almost feminine hands lazily resting against his stomach.

"I forgot how to say it in'a German again."

"Vhat's zat?"

"... How to say I Love'a You."

He's smiling again as he intertwines their hands together, each one with a wedding ring on the internationally traditional ring ringer.

"... Ich liebe dich."

"Ve~ Ich liebe dich, Ludwig."

"Ich liebe dich auch, Feli."

And he swears that's it. I mean it usually is around this part right? But instead he's staring surprisingly back up at bright almond eyes - seemingly sparkling if he were crazy enough to admit.

"You know, I was'a thinking. You should'a let me teach you Italian. Ve~ I'll-a never remember German."

He's probably staring up at the most beautiful man, country, alive right about now. Believably so, all he can do is agree and kiss the effeminate man silly.

"Ja. Zat sounds like a plan."

**Well, there you have it. The ending was meant to be the jest and probably all to this, but I'm seriously perverted. So yay for excessive various ways to mention the word penis and my fail!attempt at typing accents. Also, I'm not sure if the ring always going on your ring finger for wedding is a completely international or traditional thing, and I'd be lying if I said it'll bother me not knowing for sure :T**

**~Auf wiedersehen E Ciao!**


End file.
